


Arrow's Tony and Bucky One-Shots

by orbingarrow



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sickfic, Stark Industries, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:58:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12402507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orbingarrow/pseuds/orbingarrow
Summary: 1.  Attached: Bucky is an engineer at Stark Industries.2.  Back in the Day (Before the Potted Plants): Steve insists that when they were younger, Bucky was ridiculously good at flirting.3.  Bad Latin: Bucky's a teacher at SHIELD High for the Gifted.  If he'd been more careful when he googled Tony, he could have saved himself some trouble.NEW4. I Tried for Fluff and Killed a Flamingo: Tony's having a bad week. Bucky's the only one to notice. (No graphic bird death! Just a passing mention.)





	1. Attached

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt:
> 
> Hi! I love this blog. One idea: Modern!Bucky is an engineer, maybe working at SI, who comes up with a really good idea or solution to a problem. Tony is so excited when he sees what Bucky's come up with, he decides to email this person right away. Unfortunately, this is at the end of Tony being in the workshop without sleep for way too long, so the email is ridiculous and rambling and hilarious. Bucky loves it. He prints it out and it becomes his favorite possession.

\-------------------------------------------------  
From: Tony Stark  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 3:10 AM  
Subject: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: James Buchanan Barnes 

Barnes,

Been staring at the proposal you sent over for the last three hours. At first I thought someone was punking me because this reads like MacGyver and Wil E Coyote had a bastard lovechild who really likes explosions and lacks all common sense. Chemistry 101 says no to pretty much this entire concept from start to finish but... I started running the math and this shit could work.

Could really work. I’ve pulled in Dr. Banner. We’ve got ideas.

I’m attaching-- 160 pages of notes? That can’t be right. Well, the attachment says 160 but just assume that however many notes you receive are the notes that are there. We were using the holoboard and 

\--------------------------------------------------  
From: James Buchanan Barnes  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 3:15 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: Tony Stark 

Dr. Stark,

There’s no attachment. Also, if you said anything after ‘holoboard and’ I didn’t receive that either.

James Barnes  
Engineer Class III  
Research and Development  
Stark Industries

\--------------------------------------------------  
From: Tony Stark  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 3:16 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: James Buchanan Barnes 

Should be attached now.

Tony

Attachment: You’ve-got-to-see-this

\--------------------------------------------------  
From: James Buchanan Barnes  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 3:18 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: Tony Stark 

Dr. Stark,

This attachment is a jpg of a piglet wearing rain boots. Is this some kind of continued employment test? I thought they only did that at Google.

James Barnes  
Engineer Class III  
Research and Development  
Stark Industries

\--------------------------------------------------  
From: Tony Stark  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 3:38 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: James Buchanan Barnes 

Yes. The pig was a test. You passed. The attachment was not at all the result of me being up for 44 hours straight working on this piece of shit government oversight paperwork to get it out in time. Or me forgetting what I named the piglet file when I saved it to send it to the guy I’d been seeing but who was really after my money or the spotlight or something. I don’t know. He was fucking someone else so he couldn’t have been that into me, right? 

Anyway, Jarrod had about the same reaction as you to the pig. Unimpressed.

It was an employment test like you said. Got it in one. Excellent work. I’ll pass your Piglet Identification Exam score along to HR.

Numbers and notes should be attached. For reals this time.

Tony

Attachment: You-have-got-to-see-this

\-------------------------------------------------  
From: James Buchanan Barnes  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 3:46 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: Tony Stark 

Dr. Stark,

The numbers came through. I’ll look at them now.

James Barnes  
Engineer Class III  
Research and Development  
Stark Industries

P.S. I was not unimpressed by Porkchop. What kind of soulless jerk is unimpressed by a smol pig in rainboots? Pig’s just doing his thing, trying to keep his feet dry. I AM unimpressed by your ex. You can do better.

\-------------------------------------------------  
From: Tony Stark  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 4:02 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: James Buchanan Barnes 

James,

Look at the math in the morning, at your desk, when I’m paying you for it. Don’t feel pushed because I’m an insomniac. I’ll feel like an ass.

Tony

P.S. Porkchop? You’re naming our pig Porkchop? You’re going to give him a complex. What if I named you-- shit, I guess there’s no name for a piece of a human that you eat, is there?

P.P.S The ex was a Nobel prize winner. You think I’m going to do better than that?

P.P.P.S. Stop calling me Dr. Stark. You’re creeping me out.

\-------------------------------------------------  
From: James Buchanan Barnes  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 4:08 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: Tony Stark 

Tony,

I don’t mind looking at the numbers now. I was running my own numbers when you’re email came in. Don’t need much sleep. I’m pretty sure at this point my blood’s mostly caffeine. It’s fine.

Like you said, it seems like there’s got to be some kind of flaw I’m missing in the work I turned in. Logic says explosions should be imminent but the math says they’re not. And between logic and math, math always wins.

James Barnes  
Engineer Class III  
Research and Development  
Stark Industries

 

P.S. Guess that depends on how you define _eat_. Think outside the box and you can probably come up with something. Just nothing you can call me without getting into trouble with Human Resources.

P.P.S. What about Hampton?

P.P.P.S I’d rather be with a nobody who likes me than a somebody who doesn’t. Just sayin’

P.P.P.P.S. Most people call me Bucky.

\-------------------------------------------------  
From: Tony Stark  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 4:10 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: James Buchanan Barnes 

Bucky. Seriously? Who’d you piss off to get a nickname like that?

Tony

P.S. This might be the first time someone’s ever told _me_ , King of Thinking Outside the Box, to think outside the box. But Pepper will yell at me if I type any words in this email that would embarrass the company if I had to read them out loud in court, so just assume I called you an incredibly clever nickname related to being eaten. Blush accordingly.

P.P.S. Hampton will do.

\-------------------------------------------------  
From: James Buchanan Barnes  
Date: Wed, Oct 11, 2017 at 4:11 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Resonance in FTL Magnetometer from Fused Zirconium Connected by Indium Solder  
To: Tony Stark 

Tony,

That’d be my friend Steve. But we were 4 so I’ve had some time to forgive him.

Bucky

P.S. It takes more than that to make me blush.

\-------------------------------------------------

Bucky waits up almost another full hour but there’s no response. Hopefully Dr. Stark got some sleep.

The next morning, he reads over the emails again on the way to work. He can’t stop smiling. He doesn’t think anything’s gonna come of any of it. Not a chance. But it was still a fun way to spend the evening and he knows that’s a side of Dr. Stark that hardly anyone gets to see.

So he takes it for what it is: a one-off sleep-deprived nonsense fest between himself and the owner of the company. He’ll look at the attached notes when he gets to his desk, fire off a totally professional email, and get on with his life.

But first, coffee.

Once he has a huge cup, he sits down and opens his laptop.

“What’s that?” Peter asks from behind him.

Of course it’s the picture of the piglet in rainboots, displayed full screen.

“Jpg from a friend,” Bucky says.

“You should print him out!” Kamala suggests. “Cheer up your cubicle a little.”

“Then people will stop asking why you’re depressed,” Riri chimes in.

This is what Bucky gets for making friends at work.

It’s not that there’s anything wrong with Peter and Kamala and Riri. They’re actually great kids. But that’s the problem. They’re kids, fresh out of college, and early graduates at that. Peter’s the oldest at 21, and Riri’s only 17, making her 11 full years younger than Bucky.

Engineer Class III is where all the newbies go, and he’s the oldest of the newbies since he went into the service first, and is only at Stark Industries because of a Veteran’s Hiring Initiative that they’d started up a few months before. He was the very first veteran to be placed.

At first he was wary of so much as speaking to the other three R&Ders who shared his cubicle pod, but they were all so damn insistent on making friends that it just kind of happened.

And now here they are.

Bucky’s got his hand (his only hand) on his coffee and he doesn’t swat Peter away when he reaches over to press the print screen command. 

Kamala’s the one to walk over to the printer to get the little colorful pig, and take scissors to it to trim it carefully into something that can be displayed. Riri uses a thumbtack to place it up front and center in Bucky’s cubicle and Bucky knows he _could_ take it down, but he’s not really inclined to do so.

It’s like an inside joke that’s only inside to him. Well, and Dr. Stark, but he’s not ever going to see it, so really it’s just there for Bucky. And Kamala wasn’t wrong... it does cheer the space up considerably. The three of them have all kinds of pictures of friends and family and comic strips and motivational sayings hung up in their walls. Hampton is Bucky’s first and only.

With coffee in him, and his coworkers finally on to their own projects, Bucky can focus on the task at hand. He opens the notes attachment and starts to wade through. It’s a fascinating read. The notes are pretty much just screenshots of the holoboard, taken every few minutes, and done in two distinct handwritings. It’s easy to tell which belongs to Dr. Banner because it’s neat and orderly and all laid out in a way that makes sense. Tony’s (wow, that’s going to be a hard habit to break) is chaotic. There are slashes and doodles and smileys and smudges but the math

Holy shit the math.

It’s the most beautiful thing Bucky’s ever seen.

Tony hadn’t been lying when he said he was King of Thinking Outside the Box. He’d taken Bucky’s idea and just... launched it into space. All of the variables were there, and the tensile strength calculations and the load bearing adjustments and some calculus that Bucky understands but that’s definitely being applied in a way that he’s never thought possible.

Bucky takes in a deep breath and holds it.

He’s got a mad crush. On Tony’s brain. He’s actually a little hard, which is-- all kinds of inappropriate and awkward. And he has no choice but to continue on wading through the notes until he has enough information to work on his own calculations and finally _then_ he stops sporting nerd wood.

What has Stark Industries even done to him?

Once he’s put together a response that sounds intelligible he sends his thoughts back to Dr. Stark, and again, he doesn’t hear back. That’s fine. That’s not even unusual for their line of work. He has other projects in the backlog and he moves on to those.

Days pass.

A picture of Steve and Natasha joins the Rainboot Piglet on his board. Then a hilarious fortune he got out of a fortune cookie while he was out to lunch with the Class III Engineers. Then a postcard his sister sent him from Spain, and an autographed picture of Bill Nye that Sam gave him out of the blue.

Still, Hampton stays in the place of honor and when Bucky looks at him he smiles every time.

It’s a Monday in mid-December when Bucky gets to work early and sees someone hovering near his desk.

“Can I help you?” Bucky asks. “The rest of the team won’t roll in for another half an hour or so.”

“No,” the man says. “I was just-- just dropping something off.”

“At my desk?”

That gets the man’s attention and he turns to look at Bucky and oh god it’s Tony Stark, looking disheveled and sleepy and so so much more attractive in person than he looks on company memos or in that giant picture that hangs in the lobby.

Bucky’s mouth falls open.

“You kept the pig,” Tony says.

Bucky nods. “I told you I liked him. And I still maintain your nobel-prize-winning-ex was a dick if he didn’t. What’d you bring me?”

“Oh-- that. Well, come look.”

Tony gestures to Bucky’s desk and Bucky walks over to see a stack of papers. “My recommendation for making the changes you suggested to the FTL Magnetometer. With full credit to you. Bruce and I worked on a few prototypes and the math held. No explosions. I also recommend that you should be brought in as the engineering consultant on the project.”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to go silent.

“Is that okay?” Tony asks.

“That’s... incredible,” Bucky says. “More than incredible.”

“I thought all the Class III Engineers were kids,” Tony says suddenly. Nothing Bucky’s said would make those words make sense in that order. 

“Well, the other three are,” Bucky says slowly. “I came in through the Vets program so I’m the odd one out. Is that a problem?”

Tony shakes his head. 

“Only the part where I stopped emailing you because I thought I was chatting up a kid young enough to be my son and felt like a complete creeper. You said you still had a friend who knew you when you were four. I figured that meant you were under twenty. Who keeps friends that long when they’re-- however old you are?”

So that was why the emails stopped so abruptly.

“Pretty sure HR doesn’t let you ask,” Bucky says with a smile.

“There’s a lot of things HR won’t let me do,” Tony responds. “And some that they will.”

“Like what?” Bucky asks.

“Like take you out for coffee.”

“To discuss the project?”

“And other things,” Tony says. “I’m not your direct supervisor. There’s some ummm... paperwork. And I know this is sudden and I’m not gonna lie I have not had sleep in a while. For-- some amount of time that would make you wince. But coffee’s allowed. Not mandatory. Say no if it’s a no. You’re still on the project. You’re still brilliant. Maybe batshit, too, but the math. It’s kept me warm at night. Wishing you were ten years older, and now here you are...”

“I saved our emails,” Bucky says. “And--” he gestures toward the pig, “Hampton’s what made me finally start feeling like maybe SI is where I belonged. And I haven’t had that much sleep either.”

“So coffee then?” Tony asks hopefully.

“Coffee,” Bucky agrees.

And paperwork. In the end there is so. much. paperwork. 

\---------------- Two Years Later ----------------

From: Tony Edward Barnes Stark  
Date: Wed, May 13, 2019 at 9:10 AM  
Subject: Legit work related email about v important work things  
To: James Buchanan Barnes Stark 

I wish I was your project notes for the model imperfections in variational data that I know are due by end of day.

You know why?

\-------------------------------------------------  
From: James Buchanan Barnes Stark  
Date: Wed, May 13, 2019 at 9:12 AM  
Subject: Re: Legit work related email about v important work things  
To: Tony Edward Barnes Stark 

I can’t even venture a guess here, doll.

\-------------------------------------------------

From: Tony Edward Barnes Stark  
Date: Wed, May 13, 2019 at 9:13 AM  
Subject: Re: Re: Legit work related email about v important work things  
To: James Buchanan Barnes Stark 

Because I’d be ridiculously hard and you’d be doing me on your desk for the next 6 hours.

P.S. I love you.

\-------------------------------------------------

From: James Buchanan Barnes Stark  
Date: Wed, May 13, 2019 at 9:14 AM  
Subject: Re: Legit work related email about v important work thing  
To: Tony Edward Barnes Stark 

… I love you, too.


	2. Back in the Day (Before the Potted Plants)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve insists that back before the war, Bucky was a charmer. Tony is skeptical until a mission gone wrong makes him a believer!

_Hi there! I has a prompt! Steve has told the Avengers at various points what a ladies man Bucky was back in the day and at some point suggested that he could give Tony a run for his money in the saucy flirt department. Tony doesn't believe it and challenges Bucky to lay it on him. Maybe even in front of the team? Idk, I just picture a tongue tied Tony and oodles of tension. <3 _

\----

“Bucky can do it.”

The entire team groaned. ‘Bucky can do it’ was pretty much Steve’s solution for anything at that point. As if through sheer force of stubbornness, Steve could convince the other Avengers to give Bucky a mission. But that wasn’t how things worked with the Avengers. Not anymore. And Bucky wasn’t ready. Everyone but Steve could see it.

“I can do it,” Clint said.

The ‘it’ in question really shouldn’t be that hard. Tony was going to a fancy party later that evening, and he needed a reason to slip off to a very specific guest bedroom so he could track down some long-forgotten HYDRA microfilm that Maria Hill thought was hidden there. It’d be suspicious if Tony walked upstairs alone. No one was going to give him a second glance if he was kissing a stranger on the way up.

So that was the problem and Clint was a workable solution. He was relatively unknown. If he wasn’t carrying a bow on his back, no one ever recognized him as an Avenger.

“Hawkeye it is,” Tony said.

“Shouldn’t you practice?” Steve asked. From the smirk on his face, he was clearly ribbing them.

“Think I can kiss Stark fine tonight on the first try,” Clint said smartly.

“I dunno,” Natasha said, her smile full of mischief. “You’re going to need to make it convincing, and you _are_ straighter than your arrows.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, look--” Clint stood, marched over to Tony and paused.

Tony didn’t like to be touched. He appreciated that Clint waited. And rather than nod, Tony just leaned up to close the short distance between them and opened his mouth into a kiss. It was brief, but apparently believable, since when he pulled back, they were met with applause.

“Believable enough for you?” Tony asked Steve.

Steve shrugged. “Bucky’d do it better.”

“The Bucky who’s barely said one word to any of us but you in a month?” Tony asked. “And lurks behind the potted plants? That Bucky’s going to come to this party, charm me enough that it’ll convince the assholes who’ve known me since I was a teenager, and then kiss me up the stairs?” Tony said doubtfully.

“I’m just sayin’, back in the day, no one was a better flirt. He’d have charmed _your_ pants off in under a minute.”

“The other day I asked Barnes what kind of pizza he wanted and he said “round” and walked away,” Tony sighed. “I’m not seeing the charm.”

Steve started cackling. Cackling so hard he nearly fell off his chair, and Tony looked at Clint for help, because now that he’d repeated the conversation out loud, it did feel a little like maybe Barnes was trolling him. And trolling wasn’t a far jump to normal-enough-to-join-the-team. At least this team.

“Maybe Bucky can help next time?” Bruce suggested. “Flirting with Tony comes up at least once every couple of months.”

“Everyone gets a try,” Clint said cheerfully. “Who would have ever thought your reputation for bagging strangers would come in so handy?”

“I was playing the long game,” Tony laughed. “I’m that damn smart.”

“Sure you are, champ,” Steve smirked. 

There was a flicker of movement out in the hall. Probably Bucky skulking again. How Steve thought that was mission-ready behavior, Tony couldn’t guess.

Later that night, he wouldn’t have to.

*

The mission went tits up all of ten seconds in.

“Shit, shitshitshit,” Clint swore into the comms. “Julia Clearwater’s here. I gotta go before she sees me.”

“What?” Tony whispered into his comm.

“She knows who I am. She knows what I do. And she is not a friendly. If she spots me talking to you, it’s game over.”

“Nat, can you cover?” Steve asked into the comm.

“Negative. Julia knows me too. She’s ex-SHIELD. Bruce?”

“Right,” Bruce replied. “Just take a few seconds to teach me how to blend into a fancy party like that and also how not to make a face when Tony’s tongue is in my mouth and--”

“Cap, you’re up,” Tony mumbled as he took a drink of his champagne.

“That’s not happening,” Natasha said. “Steve’s way too recognizable.”

“Bucky can do it,” Steve interrupted. “He’s shadowing tonight, so he’s already around.”

“And you were going to tell us he was shadowing when?” Tony asked. 

“When anything went wrong and we needed a sniper,” Steve sighed. “Our sniper was going to be occupied by your tongue. Natasha knew.”

“And I agreed it was a good idea,” Natasha added. 

“We’re gonna talk about this later,” Tony whispered. 

“We’re out of options,” Steve said. “So we call the mission or you give Bucky a chance.”

“What about his arm?” Bruce asked. “That’s a pretty notable feature. An ex-SHIELD operative might recognize it from the ghost stories.”

“He’s got it covered. Literally,” Steve explained. “Nat gave him a photostatic bracelet. His hand will look human.”

“And what about a tux?” Tony asked.

“M’on it,” Bucky’s voice came in quietly through the comm.

There was a telling thud. Tony hoped whoever’s tux Bucky was “borrowing” was asshole enough to deserve the rough treatment.

“Recognized a HYDRA operative about my size,” Bucky said with his ever-spooky calm. “Two birds, one stone.”

“Then come on in,” Tony said. “The sooner the better, before I change my mind. Oh look-- It’s Hammer-- perfect-- exactly what I need.”

The last few words were spoken more to himself, though Tony knew the entire team would cringe on his behalf. Ever since Justin Hammer weaseled his way out of prison, the man had made it his mission to interject himself into Tony’s life whenever possible. Often in downright creepy ways. Like flirting at a party like this and possibly ruining everything.

If Bucky came in and wasn’t convincing, Hammer would be the very first to point it out.

“Don’t want to talk to you,” Tony said plainly as Justin greeted him. “I don’t like you. We aren’t friends. Go away.”

“If you’d let me explain,” Justin pleaded overly loud. To anyone nearby this was a scene waiting to happen. Fuck.

“Not interested,” Tony insisted. “I would rather--”

“Dr. Stark?” a pleasant voice asked, cutting Tony off before he could launch into a Green Eggs and Ham’s worth of reasons why Hammer’s false apologies were going to go unheard forever.

Tony and Justin both turned at the same time, and it was a good thing Justin’s attention was fully on the interruption because Tony’s face muscles definitely twitched and his mouth dropped open at least half an inch.

Bucky Barnes stood in front of them, looking every bit the 28 years old he’d been pre-war and _smoking_ hot. His suit fit him like Tom Ford had hand-stitched it with love, and the way he looked at Tony-- like a mix of hero worship and fuck-me-eyes-- was so incredibly spot on, Tony’s brain did a triple take. From the way Justin was eye-molesting Bucky, the get-up was believable as hell.

“Dunno if you remember me,” Bucky continued easily. “We met at Darla Bishop’s party,” he added, the words almost electric with pleasant (fake) memories. “Thought I’d let you get me that drink you owe me.”

Bucky looked at Tony with hungry eyes. Like after a cocktail, getting laid was an absolute surety.

“You’d be hard to forget,” Tony said softly.

It was soft because his brain forgot how words worked there for a second, but the effect was just right. Justin would certainly walk away with the impression that this wasn’t the first time these two had met up for a tumble.

“I missed Darla’s party,” Justin piped in. “And Tony here should probably avoid drinking too many. He’s got a reputation for trouble after a few, if you know what I mean.”

Justin leaned toward Bucky and tugged roughly at the front of Bucky’s suit. 

To Bucky’s credit (and a little to Tony’s disappointment) he let Justin live.

“I _don’t_ know, actually,” Bucky said, taking a step closer to Tony and using his elbow to brush away Justin’s hand in the process. He only had eyes for Tony as he smiled at him and added, “Tony’s never struck me as anything less than a gentleman.”

Bucky’s smile was easy and his eyes were full of mischief. Like that was an inside joke between them. Like there were a hundred other inside jokes between them waiting to be known.

“Gentleman might be a stretch,” Tony said with a small smile of his own. “But flattery will get you everywhere.”

“It ain’t flattery if it’s true,” Bucky said.

God his voice. There was a hint of a Brooklyn drawl, wrapped in heat and warmth and promise. It was like the Winter Soldier had never existed. All Tony (or anyone watching) was picking up from this encounter was Do Me vibes by the boatload.

“Tony? A gentleman?” Justin scoffed. “Pull my other leg while you’re at it.”

“I thought you were looking to be friends with me, Hammer,” Tony reminded Justin.

“Eh, wasn’t going to work out. But this--” he said, pointing between himself and Bucky. “This is much more appealing. I can feel the heat. How much for the night? Two? Three hundred dollars?”

Oh god. Hammer really was looking to get himself punched, and if it would not have blown the mission Tony would have been first in line. Honestly, how important could that microfilm be, anyway? 

Thankfully, Bucky had it handled.

“Buddy,” Bucky drawled, the very picture of unimpressed. “I wouldn’t look at you twice if it won me a million dollars both times.”

“But you’ll look at _this_ guy?” Justin said, annoyed. “They called him the Merchant of Death! Do you know that or are you too young to remember?”

“I know,” Bucky said plainly. “And I also know he’s got four more doctorates than you, a much better sense of humor, a real nice ass and he’s doin’ his part to make the world a better place every chance he gets. Comparatively, you’re a goblin. Go away.”

Tony stood in stunned silence. That might have been the nicest defense of himself he’d ever heard and it was made a hundred times better by the way it shut Justin right the fuck down.

“Your loss,” Justin sneered, before he stormed away.

“Marry me,” Tony insisted, as he turned to Bucky. “We’ll go to Vegas right now. Just say the word.”

It was all part of the act, obviously, but Tony still enjoyed the way it caught Bucky by surprise and caused him to smile. A real, genuine smile. The few nosy people within hearing distance smiled, too.

“What would you do if I said yes?” Bucky asked.

“Call the airport. Have them fuel up my jet.”

“You’re somethin’ else, Tony Stark,” Bucky said, before biting at his bottom lip appealingly. Like he was playfully considering the offer. “M’not one of those guys who buys somethin’ before he tries it out and we didn’t have enough time to get acquainted last time we met. Think we should fix that before you propose.”

“There are rooms upstairs,” Tony suggested, dragging his brain back to the mission at hand since Bucky seemed to be doing fine keeping his eyes on the prize. “If you wanted to catch up somewhere a little more intimate.”

“Intimate is good,” Bucky agreed. 

He closed the space between them, took the champagne flute out of Tony’s hand and finished what was left, letting his tongue flick over the rim to catch the last drop of alcohol. Tony’s brain flooded him with unhelpful imagery about all the things that tongue could do.

Not helpful. 

They needed to be seen together a little longer. Not everyone who would notice Tony missing had caught sight of him yet in the first place. But they would. Bucky was definitely a head-turner.

“How about one more drink first?” Tony asked. “Then we head up?” 

“I’m all yours,” Bucky agreed. “Lead the way.”

Tony put a hand on the small of Bucky’s back to guide him, and forced himself to ignore the growing warmth in his chest when he did. It was probably just the alcohol. He didn’t drink much anymore. Easy explanation.

“It was Nolan, right?” Tony asked conversationally, after he’d ordered them each a champagne. “Like the famous pitcher?”

That was Clint’s cover story and since Clint was on the invite list, it made sense to assume Bucky had the same plan. 

“Nolan, yeah. My dad was a big fan of baseball,” Bucky confirmed. “I got a brother named Ryan and everything.”

Tony smiled. “You ever play?”

“In High School. Probably coulda played for a small college but all I ever wanted to do was go to NYU and then be a sports writer. No other dream would do.”

After the bartender handed over their drinks, Bucky angled in toward Tony, leaning against the counter to effectively cut them off from interruption. It was incredible to watch him work. There was just something about the way Bucky carried himself. Something about the light in his eyes. Cap was _not_ wrong. Bucky Barnes was criminally good at flirting.

The only problem (and it wasn’t much of a problem) was that they’d drawn enough attention that people were hovering closer. Any talk at all would have to be in character. Easy enough, really, or it would have been if Bucky’s presence wasn’t so damn distracting. Tony’s thoughts all seemed to lag a second or two behind the rest of him. 

“How’s that working out for you?” Tony asked. “That dream?”

“M’here, ain’t I?” Bucky asked. “Still looking for my big break, though. In New York, it’s all about who you know.”

“You know me.”

Bucky turned a little more and leaned in fully against Tony. He looked down at him with an expression of open invitation. “Not really. But I’d like to.” 

“I can finish this fast,” Tony said, draining the last of the champagne.

“Already done with mine,” Bucky said more quietly. He tipped his head forward slightly as Tony sat his glass on the counter.

It took absolutely no thinking for Tony to lean in and kiss him. 

That kiss with Clint earlier? That had been a mission kiss: convincing without a stir of feeling. This kiss? It was a kiss worthy of romantic acts of stupidity. It was a kiss that would have launched a thousand ships. Tony would have bought ESPN the very next morning and given it to Fake!Nolan for keepsies if that kiss had been real. 

“Upstairs,” Tony growled.

By then, no one was going to doubt they were walking up to one of the bedrooms to fuck. If nothing else, Tony’s erection broadcast that for anyone who was looking closely enough to see. (Next time Barnes flirted on a mission, Tony was going to ditch the tight pants.)

They found the bedroom they needed, and it was incredibly surreal to walk in behind Bucky, close the door, then turn around to come face to face with the Winter Soldier. Surreal enough that Tony took a quick step backwards.

Barnes was still gorgeous. That hadn’t changed. But his expression was somewhere between resting murder face and mission report and all the warmth was gone.

“Hey there, Killer,” Tony greeted. “Fancy meeting you here.”

If there was disappointment in his voice, it wasn’t intentional. It just was. And if Tony thought he saw a flicker of hurt pass through Bucky’s eyes, that was likely all in his imagination.

“Where’s the microfilm?” Bucky asked.

“Hill said it’s hidden in a false panel in the desk,” Natasha chimed in through the comm.

For the second time in two minutes, Tony jumped. He had completely forgotten the team could hear everything through their communicators. 

Bucky moved to the desk and opened the top drawer while Tony sat down on the bed and watched him work. It took Bucky less than a minute to locate the secret latch and remove the microfilm.

“What now?” Bucky asked.

“We’ve got to stay in here for a while,” Tony said. “Long enough that it’s believable we were up here enjoying ourselves.”

“So that should take what, exactly?” Clint asked through the comms. His grin was audible. “Thirty? Forty seconds?”

The oomph he made a second later was incredibly satisfying.

“Who’s in there defending my honor?” Tony asked.

“My elbow slipped,” Bruce came through the comm. “Not much room to work in this van.”

“That was totally on purpose,” Clint whined.

“Would I do that?” Bruce asked.

“Muting the comms so Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum here aren’t a distraction,” Natasha chimed in. “We’ll only unmute if we have something relevant to say. You do the same.” 

“Good work, you two,” Steve added. “Get out safe.”

“Copy,” Bucky said.

The line went silent. As silent as the room.

“You can sit on the bed,” Tony said, to fill the quiet. “I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me nicely.”

“No one can see us,” Bucky said simply. “You don’t have to keep up the act.”

“What act?” Tony asked. He really was coming up blank. He’d been himself all evening. It was Bucky who had been winning the Oscar down there.

“Actin’ like you don’t mind me bein’ here,” Bucky said. And well, the good news was that Bucky wasn’t in automaton mode any longer. The bad news was his voice was laced with buried hurt. Where in the hell did that come from?

“I don’t mind you being here,” Tony said quickly. He paused. Considered. Spoke gently. “And-- just for the record-- I don’t mind that you took over for Clint. I’m grateful. We’ve got the microfilm, the mission went off without a hitch, and Hammer saw me walk upstairs with the best-looking guy at the party. This is a win/win/win.”

“You told the team I lurk behind potted plants.”

“Because you _do_ lurk behind potted plants,” Tony pointed out carefully.

“I don’t lurk; I linger. I know the difference.”

“Ummm… apparently I don’t?” Tony asked. “Feel free to explain. Believe it or not, I wasn’t trying to be a dick about the… not lurking. It hadn’t occurred to me there were subtleties involved.”

God, though. Whether Tony’d meant it or not, replaying that team conversation in his head was painful. He’d talked about Bucky like he was a thing… not a person. And if Bucky’d heard, well, that sucked. It got worse as Bucky continued.

“I don’t like people lookin’ at me,” he said softly. “S’never worked out well. Not in the war and definitely not with HYDRA. Always meant I was in some kind of trouble. Pain was comin’ my way. Or something’ worse than pain.”

“That wasn’t--” Tony tried to explain. 

“You act like it makes me broken,” Bucky cut him off. “That there’s somethin’ wrong with me cause I’m not ready to be out in the open and there’s not. M’not broken. I’m workin’ through a lot.”

Bucky shut his mouth and looked away. Tony had never been so relieved to be off comms. If he fucked up this conversation royally, he didn’t need the whole team listening to him crash and burn.

He watched Bucky for a few seconds. Did some mental recalibration. Channeled Rhodey circa 1987. (Tony’s college peers had not been kind.) (Except for Rhodey, who’d taught him what friendship could mean.) (And Tony could pay that forward. He could.)

“Will you look at me?” Tony asked gently. “Please?”

Bucky turned his head grudgingly.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said simply and sincerely. “That was beyond shitty of me. I don’t think you’re broken. I think you’re amazing.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky grumbled. 

“Geezus, what you did down there?” Tony continued. “That was incredible. What you do every day to move forward and get on in the world... that’s incredible, too. I should have tried harder to make you feel comfortable in the tower, and from now on I will-- if you’ll let me. We can be friends. I dunno. Hang out, or something. I’ve seen you eyeing Dum-E and U. I’ll introduce you, if you want. They’re pretty cool. Way cooler than me.”

Bucky considered Tony’s words. “I’d like that.”

Tony nods. “I’d like that, too.”

*

Turned out, Bucky was awesome company. Sure, he faded into the shadows a lot and occasionally he stared at Tony with his Resting Murder Face and that was a little unnerving, and every once in a while JARVIS would report that Bucky had done something paranoid like check all the light fixtures in the tower for HYDRA listening devices. All in all, that was small potatoes compared to the fun they had together otherwise.

They shared a love for science and technology, greasy pizza and yelling at the television during bad sci-fi movies. Most nights when Tony was in his lab, Bucky’d join him and Bruce and sit quietly off to the side, taking apart a toaster or reading up on motorcycle repair.

It was a comfortable friendship, and one Tony valued a lot. Which was why, when his thoughts turned a little more toward the romantic side of friendship, he tried to squelch them immediately. Bucky had never given any indication he was interested and Tony didn’t want to push. But he never could quite shake the memory of that kiss, and the dwelling on it always left him wanting more. Sure there was a lot he could lose, but oh the things he could gain.

The very best things.

Yeah. 

Cold showers were Tony’s new best friend.

*

It was a month or two later when a new easy-peasy mission came in that would involve Tony and a date. No one batted an eyelash when Bucky volunteered. He could even keep his previous Nolan identity since many of the people from the party before would be attending the new mission party as well.

Tony RSVP’d with Nolan as his date.

They’d just snuck off down a side corridor to get to the room they needed for their mission (under the guise of wandering off to find a less public place to grope each other) when they heard footsteps coming up behind them. Heavy footsteps. The sort you’d expect from goons with guns.

“Shit,” Tony swore.

“Security cameras show you’ve got incoming,” Steve said over the comm.

“No facial recognition available,” Natasha added. “May just be hired help.”

“Only confront if necessary,” Steve reminded them.

“That’d be your cue to start sucking face, guys,” Clint chimed in. 

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice. 

“You good?” he asked Tony.

“So good,” Tony said honestly.

Bucky had Tony shoved against a wall with their mouths together before another second passed.

Tony’s brain went blank. Bucky was flush against him, warm and protective. The kiss was everything Tony had imagined over and over and _over_ in the weak moments when he’d let himself dwell on their previous kiss.

Bucky’s hand wandered up Tony’s side and grasped at his suit jacket and Tony heard himself make a plaintive, needy noise he was totally going to deny later. There was just something about the way Bucky kissed him. Something that was familiar and head spinning and perfect.

Tony wasn’t content to stay passive, and he let his hands wander over Bucky’s back and then down his biceps and there was the metal arm, and yup-- that did all kinds of things to short circuit Tony’s thoughts and what even _was_ that kink called? Because he had it. He so had it.

Time stood still. Everything but Bucky faded into the background. 

“Uh, team?” Steve asked. “The coast is clear. Has been for like five minutes.”

Tony dragged himself out of the kiss and leaned his head back against the wall. “Shit. Right. Mission.” He tried to word-make again with the addition of some verbs. “Heading that way now.”

Bucky pulled back and away, but not before placing one last kiss to Tony’s forehead.

“To be continued back at the tower?” Bucky asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

“To be continued,” Tony agreed breathlessly. “Yes. Absolutely. You are really good at that.”

“Can’t wait to take my time with you,” Bucky said. “Been wanting to try that again since the first night.”

“God, me too,” Tony said enthusiastically. “I just didn’t want to--”

“Keep it off the comms,” Steve groaned. “I’m gonna need brain bleach as it is.”

“Yes, sir, Captain, sir,” Bucky quipped. “But I make no promises once we’re back at the tower. Probably oughtta bunk with Nat for the night if you don’t want to hear us across the hall.”

Tony laughed. They all knew just how much soundproofing had gone into the tower bedrooms, which made it all the more funny.

“I hate you both,” Steve said.

“Not as much as you’ll hate us after tonight,” Tony taunted. And then because he could he leaned in for one more kiss.

“We heard that,” Clint complained, then oomphed. There was a clatter, like people all moving around in the van at once. Then laughter. “Ouch-- hey! No pinching! No fair!”

“Accident,” Natasha said. “Muting comms. You boys behave. Hail us if you need us.”

“Copy,” Bucky said.

The line went silent.

“You really want to pick back up once we’re home?” Tony asked.

He thought he knew the answer but he still needed to have Bucky confirm. Needed to know it wasn’t all some big misunderstanding that was going to end in heartache.

“Haven’t thought of much else for a long time now,” Bucky admitted. “What I said to Hammer that first night-- that wasn’t Nolan talkin’, that was me. Even back when I was hidin’ in the plants, I wanted to know you. Wanted some of your spark for myself. Never met anyone who gives off so much light,”

Tony looked at Bucky in wonder. It didn’t feel true but Tony knew with confidence Bucky wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t. He didn’t do things he didn’t want anymore.

“I don’t know what to say that to that,” Tony replied quietly.

“You don’t have to say a thing,” Bucky assured him. “We’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out. For now let’s finish this mission so we can get back to the tower and find somethin’ better to do with our time. I’m tired of waitin’. Ready to get started.”

“Then I’m all yours,” Tony agreed with a small, pleased smile. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beautiful art at the end of this chapter is by the incredibly talented Araydre! You can find her Tumblr and more of her art here: [araydre.tumblr.com](https://araydre.tumblr.com). She's the actual best!!!


	3. Bad Latin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's a teacher at SHIELD High School for the Gifted. His favorite students may be a handful but they are absolutely the very best part of his life, so when a billionaire gets hired on staff (as much for his money as his teaching skills) Bucky's not real impressed. Of course, if he'd been more careful when he googled the guy, he might not have been half so worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to WakandaMelon for all the dialogue help!

Bucky adores his job teaching at SHIELD High so he will absolutely dance to the tune of Principal Fury’s fiddle from time to time to keep it. Usually that involves putting in extra hours over the summer fighting with the school’s ancient air conditioning unit, or volunteering as the Faculty Advisor for the Quizbowl Team. This time around, Fury’s asking for something else entirely.

The school needs money to keep the doors open. In typical Fury fashion, the principal has made a backdoor deal with a shady billionaire to get the funds. But here’s the rub: the rich guy isn’t content forking over cash without getting anything in return. He wants to teach. And according to the rundown Fury gives Bucky when he drops by Thursday’s Quizbowl practice, it’s now in Bucky’s job duties to glad-hand the new potential benefactor and make a good impression.

Bucky’s not necessarily surprised. He does, however, have questions.

The first is why he’s meeting a billionaire in a McDonalds in midtown at 10:30 on a Saturday morning.

The second is why Fury’d brought the plan up in front of the gremlins. He had to know what would happen next.

“Harley, can you pretend for five minutes that you respect my authority? Or any authority?” Bucky asks. 

Bucky had specifically asked the kids not to join him until Saturday afternoon, well after his meet and greet. Harley, as the team’s unofficial captain, had other ideas. Which is why Bucky’s now sitting at a small, round McTable staring down 5 antsy teenagers.

“Kinky, but sure,” Harley shrugs. He drops his voice low, in an entirely inappropriate mimic of something a 15-year-old might think sounds porny. “You want me to call you Mr. Barnes, while I’m at it?”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, cut that out,” Bucky grimaces. “You’re going to give me nightmares.”

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” Harley mimics back politely and appropriately. He still manages to make it sound impolite.

“Someone fix that,” Bucky says, pointing at Harley. 

Riri reaches over to muss Harley’s messy hair, and Ned, MJ and Peter all start to laugh as he tries to swat her away.

There’s not a decently respectful teenager in the bunch, and that’s usually the way Bucky likes them. The whole reason these kids are his favorite students is because they’re all absolute shits. But teenage hobgoblins are not going to be helpful for this morning’s mission.

“I have no idea why you think hangin’ around here is going to help our cause,” Bucky tries again. 

“Because we’re prodigies,” Ned says proudly.

“And that’s what Principal Fury said Dr. Stark is looking to teach,” MJ reminds him.

God this is a mess. The last thing Bucky needs is for the team to shoulder the burden of keeping the school open. If this meeting doesn’t pan out, and they blame themselves for not being good enough, that’s a teaching fail on every level.

“Right,” Bucky says. “Well, you could be the smartest kids in the world and some stuffy, upper-east sider in a smoking jacket and ascot is still not gonna be impressed with what we do at SHIELD High. I’ve spent my whole adult life dealin’ with jackass professors lookin’ down on me cause I’m from Brooklyn. I don’t want to put you kids through it, and I don’t know why Fury’s even considerin’ it. Here, check out Stark’s staff picture,” Bucky says. That’ll help them understand what they’re dealing with.

He holds up his phone, browser open to the Harvard Business School website where he’d found a picture of Dr. Howard Stark. The kids gawk at the pinched, bland face of a man more than ready to chase them off the Country Club lawn.

“Oh no,” Bucky says. “It gets worse. Harley, scroll it down a little.”

Harley reaches over to flick his finger against the screen and the kids gasp in horror. Because there, in vivid, awful color, is a picture of Howard Stark, posing with a giant gun and a dead rhino from some hunting trip to Africa, smirking at the camera like the animal murdering asshole that he is.

“He killed that poor rhino?” Ned asks in sad alarm.

“He is not a good person,” MJ whispers, shaking her head. 

“Oh no, this man is not teaching me,” Riri chimes in. “I’m not havin’ it.”

“No, he is not,” Bucky affirms. “But somehow I’ve got to make a good impression on him. It’s all on me, for better or for worse.”

“Why can’t he just donate money without coming to teach?” Ned asks.

“Hell if I know,” Bucky says. “You heard everything Fury told me. I’ll do what I can. See if I can sell him on the idea of chippin’ in without all the work that comes with puttin’ up with you lot.”

“What if he changes things?” MJ asks.

“Or he doesn’t like us?” Ned worries

“Or he’s an absolute dick?” Harley insists.

“Or he gives us bad grades?” Riri asks.

That gets a groan from the rest of the table.

Peter’s the only kid who stays quiet and that’s because since his folks died, Peter always stays quiet.

“I won’t let that happen,” Bucky says. “Everybody’s got an angle. I’ll find his and we’ll figure it out. I promise. Who knows if Fury even wants me to make a good impression? Can’t figure out why I’m meeting a guy like this in a McDonalds. Now you rugrats gotta skiddaddle. Stark’s gonna be here in a few minutes. I’ll meet you at the museum at noon. Ice cream’s on me.”

The kids scoot, and Bucky takes a second to compose himself. He’s just drawn in a deep breath when he realizes the good looking guy at the next table over is laughing into his coffee cup and keeps glancing Bucky’s way.

“Can I help you?” Bucky asks.

“Umm–” the guy stammers, caught off guard. He must be about Bucky’s age, but he’s clearly a whole lot better off, judging by his suit and how out of place he looks compared to the rest of the McCustomers.

“Hear something you think is funny?” Bucky demands. 

This is not a good day for a stranger to be staring because whether he’s looking at Bucky’s missing arm, or he overheard Bucky being a little too real with his students, none of it is any of his goddamn business.

“I feel like this is going to be awkward,” the guy continues, apologetically.

“Spit it out,” Bucky says. He glances at his watch. “You’ve got a minute. Two, tops.”

“I think you might be working with some faulty information.”

“You don’t think I know how to use the internet to look someone up?” Bucky asks.

“No. No. You googled great. Seriously. Your assessment of my dad was spot on.”

_Oh fuck._

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Bucky says. Oh he fucked this up so royally. Dr. Stark. He’d read something about the man having a son, but it had not occurred to Bucky that they’d both be doctors. It just hadn’t pinged. Oh god. “You don’t even know what kinda day I’ve had. That’s no excuse, I know. But I didn’t ask the kids to show up. They’re bright. They always know where I’m gonna be; they’re like those ultra-smart octopuses you see in YouTube videos. Or crows. The kind that stalk people down over hundreds of miles ‘cause they dropped somethin’ shiny once.”

“Octopuses?” Tony asks.

“I’m a Latin teacher,” Bucky explains. “People turn octopus into octopi cause they think that octopus comes from Latin when it really comes from ancient Greek, which would make the plural octopodes, and that would sound stupid, right? Octopus has been in English for so long that saying octopuses is a safer grammar bet, even if I know I’d sound smarter if I went with octopi. Bad Latin keeps me up at night. Not important. What’s important is that I wasn’t tryin’ to shit-talk your dad. Except a little bit I was, cause killin’ a rhino is gross, any way you look at it.”

“He’s awful,” the guy says, sounding kind of nervous. Like this sort of confession has gotten him in trouble before. “Terrible. And he didn’t even shoot that rhino out in the wild or anything, my uncle Obie had it baited. When the rhino showed up they penned it in and that’s how Howard killed it.”

“What an asshole,” Bucky says. 

The guy smiles brightly at that, and his expression goes from nervous to happy relief. Though he can’t be _half_ as relieved as Bucky is, that he hasn’t ruined the school’s future all in one go.

“I’m Tony, by the way,” the man introduces. “Tony Stark. Mind if I join you?” He gestures at the empty seat across from Bucky.

“It’s all yours,” Bucky agrees. “I’m Bucky. And I’m also so sorry about anything weird you overheard. Those kids that were here are the SHIELD High Quizbowl team. I’m their advisor and we meet up on Saturdays to explore Manhattan. They don’t get a lot of opportunities, so I’ve been tryin’ to broaden their horizons. At museums and stuff. Not at McDonalds.” Bucky glances around. “The McDonalds is a mystery.”

“My fault,” Tony says. “I suggested it. Nick put me on the spot to name a place to meet you and I blanked. I’ve known him since I was a kid and he still has a way of making me feel like I’m confessing to some sort of crime every time we talk.”

Bucky laughs. “Tell me about it. When I interviewed for the job I left thinkin’ I wasn’t fit to scrub the floors. M’pretty sure somewhere around the ten minute mark he had me confessin’ to puttin’ gum in a girl’s hair in seventh grade and blamin’ my friend Steve for it. I walked out figurin’ I was sunk. I’ve got no clue what made him go ahead and hire me.” 

“Are you kidding?” Tony asks. “I’d have killed to have a teacher like you when I was their age.”

Bucky must look skeptical because Tony hurries to continue.

“I mean it,” he insists. “No one ever took an interest in me beyond academics or made me feel like I was worth more than my grades. That’s why I want to teach. To do something that means something. To make things better for the next kid like me.”

Bucky stares at Tony for a few seconds, trying to figure out if this can possibly be real. Once he’s sure that it is, he does what he always does, and jumps right in with both feet.

“You’ll love those kids once you get to know them. Harley’s maybe the most brilliant engineer I’ve ever met. He’s got promise comin’ out the ass and his foster parents don’t have a clue what to do with him. Peter can do math he’s never seen before. Just looks at it and the numbers work, but he barely talks since his folks died, so I worry. Don’t know what I’m going to do there. 

And Riri– I asked her to do some research on the early NASA computers and she came back a week later with a stack of computer punch cards she’d made herself. She figured out the coding all on her own, then Ned. Well, Ned’s a _rara avis_ and he’s still lookin’ for himself but I know he’ll get there eventually. Then the last one is MJ, and she wrote a book of poetry that people are gonna write dissertations about someday and honestly I could really use some help. There are other teachers but somehow this group adopted me and they’re mine and I don’t always know what to do with them.”

“I’ll take the job,” Tony says. “I want the job.” Tony pauses, as if he’s about to give Bucky some kind of bad news. “But only if you’ll mentor me. That’s why Nick said we were meeting. I’ve never taught high-schoolers before. I don’t know where to start, and he said you’re the best.”

“Nick said that?” Bucky asks, not sure whether he’s more surprised or touched. With Nick it’s always a mystery.

Tony nods. “He did. And look– I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself right away. I wasn’t expecting you to be so… cool. The whole Dead Poets Society vibe threw me for a loop. I figured you’d be some stuffed shirt asshole, like the teachers I had growing up, who’d want to rub it in my face that I’ve got no experience and constantly remind me I only got a foot in the door because of my money.”

“I did sort of think that,” Bucky says, “but I’d have never said it to your face.”

Tony nods, and smiles a little sad-like. “Well, the school needs my money. You have to play nice, right?” He asks it like he’s making a joke but the hint of hurt in his voice is impossible to miss.

“There’s a world of difference between playin’ nice and bein’ nice,” Bucky says kindly, “and I’m not great at the first one.”

“You don’t think I’ll screw this up?” Tony asks.

“I think we’ll be lucky to have you,” Bucky says.

Tony looks surprised, and then he smiles like Bucky’s opinion fixed everything that was wrong.

“Do you think I could tag along to the museum?” Tony asks. “Would the kids mind?”

“God no,” Bucky says “They’re gonna love this. And they are so never going to let me live it down.”

“I doubt I will either,” Tony admits.

“Well then, you’re gonna fit right in.”

*

Tony does. He and the kids get along like a house on fire, especially him and Peter. Tony just has a way with him. Peter engages more when he’s around. Talks a little. And when the two of them get started on math, there’s a light in Peter’s eyes that’s incredible to see. It’s the kind of joy for learning that makes all the long hours of teaching seem worth it, even if Tony’s the one doing the heavy lifting there.

Saturdays end up being a lot more fun, since Tony joins the Quizbowl team as the assistant coach and he shows up for every single outing, never missing a one. Plus they get to go to a lot of new places since Tony’s got no problem paying the entry fees to anywhere, and he has so much pull in the city they don’t just let the kids in, they get to waltz in early, stay as late as they want, and are treated to all kinds of special tours Bucky would’ve never been able to arrange.

Through it all, Tony’s humble as can be. Doesn’t want to be thanked. Doesn’t want it mentioned to the kids that all the coolest stuff comes from him. Won’t hear of taking a dime from Bucky to cover any of the costs. Never tries to take the lead unless they’re somewhere Bucky knows fuck all about (like the R&D department of Stark Industries) and then Tony steps in automatically and fills in the space around them like he’s always belonged there.

To say that Bucky’s got a crush would be the understatement of the century.

“What’s worse than a crush?” Bucky asks a couple of his teacher friends, when he meets up with them for drinks one night.

They’re from his previous school so they’ve never met Tony. Just heard about him a little, when Bucky can’t help but bring him up.

“Infatuation?” Bruce guesses.

“Ardor?” Steve asks.

“Heart-Boner,” Clint offers.

Bucky shoots him a dirty look.

“At least we don’t need to ask you who this is about,” Natasha says.

“I didn’t say,” Bucky protests.

“Tony did thisssss. Tony said thaaaat. Tony’s so smart,” Steve trills in a lovesick voice that doesn’t sound a lick like Bucky. “Tony’s so perfect.”

“Tony’s eyes are so hazel,” Sam adds.

“Tony’s ass is so bangin’,” Clint offers.

“I hate all of you,” Bucky grumbles.

“So what’s the hold-up?” Natasha asks. “He’s gay. He’s single. Google is your friend, Barnes.”

“Google is not my friend,” Bucky says. “Or do we need to rehash that delightful fuck-up yet again? I can’t look at a picture of a rhino without feeling like 50 shades of dumbass, and it’s been five months.”

His friends really do love that story. So much, Natasha has threatened to add it as a scene in the next play she stages.

“Everything you say makes it sound like he’s interested,” Steve consoles. “What are you so afraid of?”

It’s not the arm. Okay, so it’s a little bit the arm. But it’s a lot of other things too and Bucky’s not gonna toss them all out there to be dissected over Happy Hour so he shakes his head and thunks his hand against the table.

“M’tappin’ out. Need some air.”

“Awww, Buck, don’t be like that,” Steve pleads. “We’ll let it go.”

“I know you will,” Bucky agrees, as he stands and shrugs into his coat. “It’s just been a long day and I’m ready for it to come to an end.”

His friends don’t argue. They do seem sorry as they send him on his way. Doesn’t matter though, because it turns out, they aren’t the only ones looking to interfere. The next day when he meets up with the troops, things take a turn for the weird.

*

“You what?” Bucky asks, as he stares Harley down.

“I told Tony to meet us 15 minutes later than usual, across the street, and to not each lunch beforehand.”

“Because why?” Bucky prompts.

“Because we made a reservation for you at Sal’s across the street,” Riri says. “And the rest of us are going to Ned’s to play video games this afternoon.”

“No,” Bucky says.

“Yes,” Harley insists. “Watching you both be tragically in love with each other without either of you doing anything about it is stupid. It’s so stupid that it’s Romeo and Juliet stupid.”

“Romeo and Juliet isn’t stupid,” MJ protests.

“It’s not stupid if you look at it as a cautionary tale,” Riri says. “Come on people. Communication is key.”

“Right,” Harley says. “So we’re intervening before you or Tony decide to do something idiotic and screw up everything.”

Bucky doesn’t know where to start. He just sits there, with his mouth slightly open, trying to figure out what decision early in his life led him to the point where teenagers are intervening in his love life so he doesn’t swallow a bottle of medieval monkshood.

“We’re friends,” Bucky tries lamely. “I don’t want me havin’ some dumb crush on him to ruin that. And it would ruin it, guys. Seriously. I appreciate what you’re trying to do but everything about this is one-sided and it is really not fair to me or Tony for you to interfere.”

Their faces fall.

“Life ain’t like Romeo and Juliet,” Bucky continues, trying to let them down a little easier. “But it’s not always a fairytale either. Sometimes you don’t get what you want and you’ve got to learn to be okay with that.”

“But you always say we can do anything we set our minds to,” Ned protests weakly.

“Right,” Bucky says. “And I mean that, I do. Academically. Scholastically. But love’s a horse of a different color. You can’t make that happen.”

“Tony likes you,” Peter says quietly. “Romantically. I know he does. I overheard him talking to Miss Potts on the phone.”

Bucky’s heart gives a traitorous flip that for his own peace of mind, he’s got to ignore.

“There’s no tellin’ what you overheard if it was only his side of the conversation,” Bucky hedges.

“Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs,” Ned quotes gently.

“And a madness most discreet,” Bucky reminds him. Two can play the Shakespeare game.

“A choking gall,” Harley chimes in.

“And a preserving sweet,” Riri finishes.

Phil Coulson is one hell of a Lit teacher, that’s for damn sure.

“Ah, fuck it,” Bucky says. “Fine. Go. We’ll eat lunch at Sal’s. See what he has to say about it. It can’t be worse than having a table full of 15-year-olds quotin’ Romeo and Juliet at me.”

“Yessssss,” Ned says. “You are not going to regret this, Mr. B.”

“I already regret it, Ned.”

“Fortune favors the brave,” MJ encourages with a nod.

“Audentes Fortuna iuvat?” Peter guesses.

“10 points to Gryffindor,” Bucky concedes. “Now go play your games. I’ve got a genius to woo.”

*

Bucky’s not a wuss. You don’t reach almost 30 being friends with the likes of Steve, Nat and Clint if you are. And once upon a time, he had game, he really did. He coulda walked up to a guy like Tony and handed him his phone number no problem. He could’ve smiled and flirted and gotten him into bed, and that would’ve been any random Friday night.

If Google isn’t full of shit (and Bucky had very carefully googled Anthony Edward Stark to avoid any mix ups) then Tony is kinda known around town for hooking up and moving on.

Which is a big part of the problem.

That’s not what Bucky’s looking for anymore and it doesn’t have crap all to do with his missing arm. The arm lost him some confidence, sure. But it was getting to know Tony– really know him– that made Bucky absolutely balk at the idea of anything less than dating him steady.

He isn’t just in lust, he’s in love.

While his best friends might have missed that part, his quiz bowl minions sure hadn’t. Quoting Shakespeare, and setting up dates and being supportive in that sweet way that makes Bucky realize maybe he really is doing okay by them.

He glances down at his watch and when he looks up, Tony’s watching him from the host stand.

Bucky smiles and shakes his head like ‘don’t ask me’ and Tony smiles back and walks over to join him.

“This is kind of romantic,” Tony says, looking around. “Where are the kids?”

“At Ned’s,” Bucky says. “They set us up on a date.”

There it is. Honesty. Communication. Not dying like two teenage idiots who could’ve lived if they’d taken thirty seconds out of their day to talk through a plan.

Tony covers his face with his palms. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he says. “When Peter heard me talking to Pepper I knew I should’ve asked him to keep that quiet. I wasn’t trying to put you on the spot. I wouldn’t– that’s not me. I would never, never, jeopardize our friendship by pressuring you for a date. I know that’s not fair– me funding the school and that’s your job and I’ve tried to keep my mouth shut and– just– you had me at octopuses.”

“Wait,” Bucky says. “Stop talking. Right now, before you start confessin’ to things I haven’t even thought up yet.”

“I’m making it worse,” Tony whispers in mortification.

“You totally are,” Bucky says, with a grin, because he has never been more relieved in his entire life.

People don’t make confessions like that if they aren’t interested. They definitely don’t make confessions like that if they’re looking for a one night stand.

“I’d like to take you on a date,” Bucky says. “One that’s not arranged by sophomores in high school, preferably. I’m not complaining about Sal’s. The cheesecake here is great. But I’d like another date, too. A real one. I’ve been fallin’ for you since the day we met.”

“You have?” Tony asks.

“I was makin’ an ass out of myself and you just rolled with it,” Bucky says in wonder.

Tony looks so surprised, Bucky’s got to wonder what kind of vibes he’s been giving off that makes this any kind of Not Obvious.

“Apparently all I do anymore is talk about how great you are,” Bucky continues. “My friends have been tryin’ to get me to ask you out on a date for months.”

“Why haven’t you?” Tony asks.

Bucky pauses. “You want an honest answer?”

Tony nods, looking nervous.

“I googled you.”

“Oh shit,” Tony says. “Look–”

“I googled you and I shouldn’t have,” Bucky says. “It wasn’t fair. And even if everything I read was true, it wouldn’t make you any less appealing. It’s just– intimidating. You’ve got such a glamorous social life, what would I even have to offer?”

“Authenticity?” Tony ventures. “Kindness. Gentleness. Intelligence. Joy. I made a list. Really, I mean, since we’re throwing out embarrassing statements like confetti, I’ll toss that out there. I made a pros and cons list for asking you on a date and the pros filled up the entire page and the cons were just ‘he’s not interested’ and ‘I pay his salary and what if that seems a little like prostitution’.”

“How could you think I wouldn’t be interested?” Bucky asks. “You’re incredible.”

“My reputation,” Tony says. “Google. I talk too much. I can get distracted–”

“I have one arm,” Bucky interrupts. “Whatever you’re going to say, it can’t beat one arm.”

Tony’s mouth opens, and Bucky realizes what he blurted out, and they both start cracking up at the same time.

“You did not just tell me you have one arm,” Tony says, as he tries to catch his breath through his laughter. “My doctorate is in math, Bucky. I can absolutely count to one.”

“That’s good, cause that’s about how many I’ve got.”

They’re laughing so hard now they’re causing a scene and getting curious looks from the only other people in the restaurant, an older couple a few tables away.

“I’ll buy your lunch!” Tony calls over to them, and that only makes Bucky laugh harder and oh god they’re going to be asked to leave.

And that’s when he spots them. Their brats, all peeking their heads in from the sides of the front window like demented coo coo birds on a broken clock.

“We’re being watched,” Bucky says.

“At this point, the more the merrier,” Tony says, turning in his seat and waving them in. “Just give me a second.”

Bucky thinks he’s going to go greet the kids, but Tony walks back toward the kitchen instead. He comes back out at about the same time the squad reaches the table.

“Just rented us the party room,” Tony declares. “Up those stairs. All of you.”

“Are you mad at us?” Peter asks.

“Livid,” Tony deadpans, managing a straight face for about half a second before he’s smiling again. “So pissed I ordered a sharing portion of everything on the family menu and a couple pans of desserts.”

That gets cheers and the kids are beaming as they stomp their way up the stairs.

“Again, I’m so sorry,” Tony aims at the older couple.

“We think it’s adorable,” the woman admits. “Enjoy your lunch and don’t worry about us. We met working in an Emergency Room. We’re used to the noise.”

“Glad to know the kids are comparable to a waiting room full of dying people,” Bucky says.

“She was talking about you two,” her partner smirks.

Tony and Bucky look at each other and start laughing all over again.

“Add some wine to your lunch,” Tony tells the couple. “You deserve it for putting up with us!”

Tony puts his hand in Bucky’s and drags him toward the stairs. They’re half way up when Tony brings them to an abrupt halt. The kids are talking a mile a minute in the room above them as Tony turns and presses his mouth to Bucky’s.

The kiss is heat, and warmth, and affection and all the things they’ve said, and some of the stuff they haven’t said yet. It’s pros and cons lists and paychecks and long afternoons in museums. It’s everything and Bucky’s not sure he’s ever gonna get enough.

“Does this mean I’m gonna have to meet your dad?” Bucky asks, as they pull apart to catch their breath.

“Absolutely you’re going to have to, if we want to steal that rhino head,” Tony confides. “Hornby deserves a decent burial. Now I’ve finally got a man who can help me make that happen.”

“You’re out of your mind,” Bucky says, with all the adoration he’s got in him. “Count me in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking to add something fluffy to your day, you can find me on tumblr at [OrbingArrow](http://orbingarrow.tumblr.com) and watch me toss love at Tony, Bucky and the rest of the gang.
> 
> If you're looking to brighten my day, you can gift me a kudos or comment! 
> 
> (I was about to write it'd give me a heart-boner but seriously there are sometimes when it's just best NOT to quote Clint Barton.)
> 
> -Arrow


	4. I Tried for Fluff and Killed a Flamingo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's sick. Bucky's the only one who notices. (Despite the title, there is no graphic bird death. It's just a background thing that makes Tony's already sad life 100 times more depressing. Then there's fluff!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that in some ways this series might be nicer as a bunch of stand alone one shots, but the way my brain organizes means it works better for me to keep them all in one place. 
> 
> So blame my brain, and I hope you can still enjoy!!!

It'd been a bad week.

It'd been a bad week, in a rough month, in a worse year, in a lifetime of well-- you get the picture.

On a random Sunday in early fall, some asshole had used a Stark Weapon (circa 1997 mind you) to launch a small scale rocket at a zoo, and while no human casualties were reported, the bastards had killed a goddamn flamingo.

Tony really liked flamingos.

It was probably stupid to be as upset as he was about a bird he'd never met but it was like nothing-- no matter how hard Tony tried-- was going to erase the stain on his legacy. As of four days later, the hashtag #merchantof(bird)death was still going strong on Twitter.

And to top it all off, JARVIS had noticed Tony had a fever and he wouldn't let it drop.

"Sir-- if you'll take my advice--"

"You know I won't J," Tony said. "You're wasting your breath."

"As I don't have lungs, I do find that highly unlikely."

"Funny," Tony intoned, as he made it to the lab. "Just bring up the suit. It's time to fly."

The Avengers were a thing again, kind of. Not much of a joint venture so much as a _I'll stay out of your way and you stay out of mine_ arrangement until the battle was finished and then they'd go get a meal together that felt a little like Aunt Agatha's Awkward Forced Family Fun Time but whatever. Tony could deal. He still talked to Natasha at least. And he could ignore the way the Winter Soldier watched him with wary eyes, like Tony had personally drowned his Christmas Kitten.

"Put it on cruise control until we get to the scene," Tony told JARVIS. He didn't feel good. He probably should have taken J's advice and sat the damn thing out but it was the guilt from Elvis (the Flamingo) that had pushed him into the suit. Well, maybe not Elvis but the knowledge that his weapons were still out there. Still being used.

Tony was still responsible. It didn't matter that they were flying out to fight a giant skeleton that had appeared out of the sewers of New York City, and that that skeleton had no known connection to Stark Industries in any way. Blame was Tony's by default, so somehow he'd be blamed for this one, too. He always was.

It'd been better when Pepper was around more. He was happy when she and Happy'd got together. Really. That was for the best. And it was good that Rhodey'd moved to St. Lucia to recover in the beach house of a retired army doctor he'd met just after his spine injury. She was a brilliant woman, pretty, funny, kind... all the thing Rhodey deserved.

And Tony wasn't alone. He had JARVIS. He had the bots. He had billions of dollars he could light on fire to keep him warm at night if that's what it took. He was fine.

He still saw Parker every now and then. Harley emailed once a week which counted as real human contact.

"Sir, your fever has risen another .4 degrees, lifting it above 102,” JARVIS warned. “It is unsafe for you to--"

"Mute," Tony said, keeping his eyes on the ever-moving view ahead. "Giant Skeleton. Huh. Right on cue."

A few of the other Avengers were already there. 

"Stark, you on comms?" Steve's voice came through, all Captainy Business and Calm Professionalism. "JARVIS went silent."

"M'here, Rogers," Tony said. "What do you need me to do?"

He only realized once human ears would hear that he probably didn't sound quite himself. It was difficult to keep the exhaustion out of his voice. He was too drained to attempt any clever conversation. Oh well-- not like they'd notice.

"We're trying to lure it to the waterfront before we take it down," Steve said. "Minimize the damage."

"Copy," Tony said.

"Did Stark just say _copy_?" the Winter Soldier asked incredulously. This was the first time Barnes'd been on the comms since the gang got back together and he sounded different than Tony remembered. Less like Terrifying Terminator and more like a Confused Brooklyn Barista. "I think somethin's wrong."

"I can hear you," Tony reminded him.

"Figured. Kinda the point of comms and all. You okay, Stark?" the Soldier asked.

Like he cared.

Tony didn't respond. He took control of the suit and flew in to do what Steve had suggested. It wasn't difficult. Amongst his many talents, he had a special knack for annoying, and this time it came in handy. He buzzed the skeleton a couple of times, and tried not to throw up from the g force of the sharp turns.

The coffee he'd had for breakfast and the more-coffee he'd had for lunch definitely weren't sitting well.

The skeleton made a grab for Tony and Tony swooped out and away. Skeletor followed and it only took two or three minutes to get to the water. The rest of the team did their thing, Tony launched a couple of small explosive rockets and the day was saved. Again.

Which was good because the world was getting dark at the edges. And then darker. And then...

"I did try to warn you, Sir," JARVIS said in low volume surround sound.

Right. The mute only lasted 15 minutes. And that was probably close to 15 minutes ago. Tony couldn't have blacked out for long. Mute only kept JARVIS quiet, he could still control the suit in an emergency.

"Yell at me later. Get me home now."

"You're already home," JARVIS supplied serenely. "When you lost consciousness I flew you back here. I am best able to cool you and monitor you inside the suit so I did not engage the open protocol. Would you like to engage it now?"

"Yes?" Tony asked. He was still a little confused. He was not less confused when the mask and the rest of the suit opened, he realized he was lying on his back on a work table in the lab, and the Winter Soldier was staring down at him. "Shit--" Tony swore, not easily able to scramble when all his joints felt sore and the suit was still there all around him. Open and exposed.

"I let myself in," the soldier said by way of explanation. 

"JARVIS let you in," Tony muttered. "Because he's a traitor. Why him, J?"

"I could not ask the team for assistance on your behalf while I was muted. Sergeant Barnes followed you back here of his own volition. It seemed wise to allow him entrance so you could have a human physically present for the duration of your illness."

Tony stared up at the ceiling in disbelief. A human physically present. Tony's life was so depressing the greatest Artificial Intelligence the world had ever known (fuck Ultron) could not think of a single person who liked Tony enough, wasn’t currently in class, and was on the correct continent, to invite over.

Tony was about to object when the Winter (oh fuck that, too. Tony can’t keep calling him that without driving himself nuts) Bucky reached down and hauled him up into his arms. Tony made one sad attempt at pulling free but he was weak from the fever and Bucky had a metal arm so Bucky was gonna win.

Seemed like a waste of what little energy Tony had left.

“I’m not gonna ask you how you know the way to my bedroom, I’m not,” Tony groaned.

Tony was no longer living in the tower. He was in the mansion he’d bought that bordered Central Park.

“Looked up the floor plans once,” Bucky said simply.

“Oh, that’s not creepy at all. Have big plans for assassinating me? Because you don’t have to be here to do that. Let nature take its course. At the rate my week is going it should be any day now.”

“I’m sorry about the flamingo,” Bucky said quietly.

“Fuck off,” Tony grumbled. Mostly because it felt a little like mocking until he glanced up at Bucky’s face and saw that it didn’t look at all like Bucky thought he was being funny. “Wait-- you’re _actually_ sorry about the flamingo?”

“I don’t like when innocent things get killed,” Bucky said. He wasn’t looking at Tony anymore. Like the information he was revealing was something he would have much preferred to keep to himself. “Including animals. Watched some videos of flamingos on YouTube. I like their weird legs. Never seen one in real life. Least not that I remember.”

God, Tony must have been hallucinating. The real Barnes was nowhere near this chatty. Also, when had Tony leaned in against Bucky and rested his forehead against the man’s shoulder? Didn’t matter. Fever dream.

They made it to the bedroom and Bucky laid him carefully down on the bed. Tony tried not to protest at the sudden loss of contact. It wasn’t-- it wasn’t about Barnes. Or Tony spending the last 8ish months with no one so much as giving him a pat on the arm. It was the fever flu. Had to be.

Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey cared. Peter and Harley cared... fuck-- didn’t matter. 

“What’s wrong? You look worse,” Bucky said.

“Nothing but the fever,” Tony gritted out. “Was feeling nauseated earlier but that’s gone now.”

“I’m gonna get you some water,” Bucky said, as he started opening and closing drawers in Tony’s dresser. “Where are your pajamas?”

“Didn’t show you that on your Creeper.com Floor Plan?” Tony asked.

“I’da had to pay extra and we’re livin’ on a budget,” Bucky said evenly, undeterred from his current mission of Find the Sleep Clothes at Any Cost.

“They’re in the closet, and stop poking around in my dresser unless you wanna catch sight of some grown-up things you aren’t going to unsee.”

“Sex toys’ve been around longer than me,” Bucky said, switching to the closet. Every word out of his mouth sounded dead(ly) serious and yet the words were anything but. Like under all the layers of scary, lurked a total smart ass. “Prob’ly been around since man discovered the first cucumber.”

Tony choked. “What the-- are you-- I can’t-- _what_?”

“Put these on,” Bucky said simply, tossing a stack of PJs at him. “Your flight suit’s gross. I’ll be right back with your water.”

And with the mission to Get a Glass of Water set in motion, Bucky walked out.

“J? Am I dreaming?”

“It seems unlikely,” JARVIS replied.

Tony slowly started to strip while still laying down. Standing was bad. Flopping himself out of the sweaty flightsuit like a fish out of water, and then dragging on the t-shirt and Iron Man pajama bottoms was… not fun... but it did feel better to be in clean clothes. 

He had just finished when Bucky walked back in. He was carrying water, a bottle of Ibuprofen, and a fancy car magazine. He sat all three things on the dresser next to Tony and then walked around him to take a seat on the far side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked. He was really not sure he wanted to know at that point.

“Stickin’ around til your fever breaks.”

“Then you’re leaving?” 

Tony wished he sounded a little older than 10 when he asked the damn question. He has always been needy when he’s sick; and that was a hard habit to break when someone-- anyone-- stuck around long enough to bring him water.

“That’s up to you,” Bucky said. “I don’t got anywhere else to be. Sounds like you could use a physical human presence for a day or two. But I’ll go if you say go.”

He looked at Tony expectantly. Tony took a long, slow drink of water, popped a couple of the pills and collapsed back onto the pillow. All his energy was gone. That was as much as he could do.

“Don’t go,” Tony yawned. “Want to see… the flamingo… videos.”

He did eventually. Two days later.

Between one point in time and the other, life was a hot, miserable blur. Tony’s throat had started burning later that night. His fever spiked. JARVIS called for a doctor, and Tony panicked. It wasn’t because of the doctor-- it was because of something long-buried and Obie-shaped.

Something about being alone and betrayed and helpless.

“M’not gonna let anyone hurt you,” Bucky said firmly.

Which-- well, kind of brought about the realization that Tony’d been in the house alone with Bucky for hours (days/minutes? Time was weird) and Bucky hadn’t pinged as a threat in all that time. More than that, even, Tony felt safe with him there. He slept better when Bucky sat by the bed. 

“Okay,” Tony agreed. “If Bucky keeps an eye on him.”

“I will,” Bucky agreed.

The doctor came and went without incident. Tony fell into a fitful sleep, but any time he woke up Bucky was there. He refilled Tony’s water and held a cold, damp rag to his forehead. He spoke quietly to him about safe places and happier times, every time nightmares of water buckets and searing hot coals in his throat dragged Tony from sleep into a world of wakeful throat agony.

And when Tony woke on the third day feeling much more himself and much less like death warmed over, Bucky was there then, too.

“You didn’t have to stay,” Tony said softly.

“I don’t do things I don’t want to, anymore,” Bucky said.

Tony let out a quiet laugh. “No, I guess you wouldn’t, would you? Now that I’m feeling better are you going to go?”

“Figured I’d wait to make sure you don’t fall in the shower or choke on your breakfast. Those robots of yours like to make a mess on the floor. S’pretty big tripping hazard. You might not be as sick now, but don’t think you’re quite well, either.”

“This place is a death trap, really,” Tony said. “There are the stairs. All my furniture has sharp edges. I think there’s a blowtorch I probably shouldn’t be using right now.”

“Sounds like I’m gonna be here a while.”

“Can’t say that I mind.”

*

The thing about Bucky was that he was tactile.

Once Tony had recovered enough to leave bed they’d moved downstairs to the couch, where they could watch flamingo videos on the big screen. Tony’d sat first and Bucky had sat down right next to him, and then rested his arm up on the cushion behind Tony’s head. It wouldn’t have necessarily left them touching, but at that point Tony decided to just roll with it and he’d leaned in against Bucky’s side. 

It was everything.

They hadn’t talked much during the afternoon, since there were more than enough flamingo videos to keep them occupied, but once they’d had their fill of bird documentaries, they did talk. Extensively. Exhaustively. 

Tony’d never really been around anyone who liked reaching out and touching him quite so much. For the most part, all the touching was incidental. A hand to the shoulder, a thumb to his cheek, sweeping hair away from Tony’s forehead long past when it was stuck there by fever and sweat.

“Why did you follow me back here?” Tony asked, well into the night, when they’d reached stupid-o’clock and words could no longer be held against a person.

“I’d been wantin’ to talk to you for months,” Bucky admitted. “But I am bad at doin’ things like a normal person so I got your floor plans instead. Read your social media like we were havin’ a conversation. Sat across the street in the park sometimes and would watch your door.”

“Wow-- that is-- I don’t know what to do with that?”

Bucky sighed. “I know. Steve didn’t know what to do with it either. He’s got all these stories of me bein’ smooth. Guess I was, back in the day.” Bucky ran his hands through his hair nervously. A nervous Winter Soldier was definitely not something you got to see every day. “ I remember some of my life before. Not the parts where I was good with people, though. Probably takes something I don’t got anymore to get that right.”

“I don’t think you’re doing so bad,” Tony admitted. “You caught me off guard, a little, but-- normal’s not really my thing. Tried it a couple times. Never worked out.”

“What’s your thing then?” Bucky asked seriously.

Tony considered all the non-answers he could give and discarded them for something closer to the truth.

“Trust,” Tony said. “I-- don’t trust people. For good reason.”

“True. Never know who’s creepin’ on you from out across the street.”

“You’d know,” Tony said, giving Bucky a small nudge. “But it’s more than that. Day to day stuff. I don’t trust people to hand me things. It makes-- wait-- you keep putting stuff for me on the bed or the table. You already know that part?”

“I’ve been gettin’ what intel I could from Steve and Natasha for a while now,” Bucky admitted.

“At least no one can say you aren’t thorough,” Tony quipped. He leaned in heavier against Bucky. “So you really want to hang around here? Get to know me? You mean that?”

Those questions were weighty. Bucky had no trouble answering them without needing time to think.

“Get my intel right from the source?” Bucky asked with a shyly pleased look on his face. “That’d be preferable, yeah. If you don’t mind the company.”

“Stay as long as you like.”

“Think I just might.”

*

Steve stood up and cleared his throat, tapped on his glass with his fork, and when that didn’t work he turned his Captain America Disappointed Face on the gathered crowd until they fell silent.

“When Bucky asked me to be his best man, the first words out of my mouth were ‘It’s about damn time.’ We all knew this wedding was coming; I guess I just knew it a good two years before these two.”

Tony chuckled into his champagne glass and reached over to squeeze Bucky’s hand. Bucky turned and pressed a kiss to Tony’s cheek.

“Rhodey is going to have one hell of a wedding toast to follow,” Bucky whispered as he pulled away. “Steve’s been practicin’ this for days.” 

At the whispers from the wedding couple, Steve turned his eyes to Tony and Bucky, who froze like they’d been caught stealing nuclear secrets or something. At least until Bucky appeared to remember it was _their_ wedding and narrowed his eyes at Steve in a fantastic impression of the Winter Soldier’s Murder Stare. It was an awesome glare stand-off, that Bucky won after about five seconds, when Steve cracked a smile he couldn’t suppress.

“It all started,” Steve continued a little louder, clearly enjoying his wedding role and all the power that came with it, “the day Bucky came back to our hotel room after disappearing for a weekend, obsessed with flamingos…”

*

They all lived happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm moving any fic that was tumblr only over to ao3 to make sure I have them somewhere they won't get lost! This was originally a Birthday Fic for Amy.
> 
> If you feel like you've lost your home and you're looking for a place to chat with other WinterIron fans, you can come join me (Arrow) and lots of other nice people on the WinterIron Discord:
> 
>  
> 
> [Here!](https://discord.gg/A32YB6Y)
> 
> Tumblr's a pain,  
> We all know it's true.  
> But it'd brighten my day,  
> to be acknowledged by you!
> 
> (Without Tumblr you might see a lot of discouraged authors and artists around. If you'd like to help the WI fandom survive, please kudos, comment and encourage where you can! Not just here, but all across the net.) <3 


End file.
